Gurmukh

A hush falls over the room, and all eyes turn to the petite woman in the white turban. On a small stage draped with red tapestries, Gurmukh Kaur Khalsa kneels before the class of about 50 women, all in different stages of pregnancy. Her expression is beatific as she speaks gently into her microphone headset. "Pregnancy is so pertinent, whether you're pregnant or not," she tells her students. "It's about your own birth .... Everything becomes alive around pregnancy."

A hush falls over the room, and all eyes turn to the petite woman in the white turban. On a small stage draped with red tapestries, Gurmukh Kaur Khalsa kneels before the class of about 50 women, all in different stages of pregnancy. Her expression is beatific as she speaks gently into her microphone headset. "Pregnancy is so pertinent, whether you're pregnant or not," she tells her students. "It's about your own birth .... Everything becomes alive around pregnancy."

Mama walks in, bobbling a little in the middle, a thin rubber mat rolled under one arm. She takes off her shoes. People ask, "How many months?" Mama smiles. "Six months," she replies. "Eight months," she says. "Eight-and-a-half months." Oh, Mama. She is something. In all her 26, 28, 33, 35 years, she has never felt or looked like this, or pondered the things she ponders all the time these days. It is puzzling and amazing, this new state.

Gurmukh Kaur Khalsa is an expert on yoga ("Earth Mother, Yoga Star," Aug. 16). She obviously knows what she is doing to give mothers relaxation and serenity, and this doubtless has a positive effect on the unborn child. But she demonstrates the fatal flaw of many "gurus." Charles Lindbergh was an expert on aeronautics, but he expounded on (and was listened to about) politics when he had no more expertise than the person in the street. Gurus have an obligation to be careful about the spillover halo effect.

Before he was Yogi Bhajan -- kundalini master, Sikh missionary, lifestyle sage and political advisor with 300 yoga centers and 4,000 instructors, more than a dozen corporations and $1 billion in government contracts for security -- he was Harbhajan Singh Khalsa Puri, an ex-civil servant who landed in Los Angeles at the dawn of the city's guru boom and inspired the hippie masses with his movie star charisma and exotic health regimen. Bhajan, 75, died Oct.

The second suspected gunman who allegedly opened fire at a Sikh sports event in Sacramento County has been caught in India five years after the fatal shooting, the FBI announced. Amandeep Singh Dhami, 28, went on the run after the August 2008 attack at the Gurmukh Singh Johal Memorial Tournament, according to the FBI. One person -- 26-year-old Parmjit Pamma Singh -- died in the shooting, and several more were injured. Spectators were able to hold down the other shooter -- 28-year-old Gurpreet Singh Gosal -- until Sacramento County Sheriff's deputies arrived at the scene, some of them using hockey sticks and cricket bats, the Sacramento Bee reported.

IT'S been 25 years since the Go-Go's got going, and L.A.'s own sirens of sun-drenched summer hits, such as "Vacation" and "We Got the Beat," are marking the milestone with a world tour that will eventually bring them home for a Greek Theatre date July 14. For the last 14 years, however, home for lead singer Belinda Carlisle has been in the South of France, where she shares a chateau with husband Morgan Mason and their son, James Duke.

If you decide to meditate in a formal setting, Los Angeles offers a vast array of options--from contemplative prayer to the Zen practice of sitting meditation. To find the perfect technique for you, seasoned practitioners suggest sampling meditations from several traditions and sticking to what suits your personality and best complements any already-existent spiritual practice. Experiment from among the following: Zen Center of Los Angeles, 923 S. Normandie Ave., L.A .

Just days after the war in Iraq began, a group of children are together for yoga class at L.A. Yoga Center in Westwood. Acknowledging that it had been a rough week, instructor Joy Marcus guides the group, ranging in age from 5 to 10, through a variety of dances, stretches and poses. From dog pose ("Make friends with your hamstrings!") to tree pose ("I'm going to water you and watch you grow"), handstands to headstands, the children stretch, purr, sing and dance with confidence.

You won't hear hip-hop or techno music blasting from the speakers in this fitness class. And though some of the members are working hard to slim down and firm up, others couldn't care less about their chubby thighs and rounded tummies. That's because this class -- at the Hollywood YMCA -- is made up of moms and their young children. Like many fitness classes, an instructor leads participants through a series of exercises.